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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786575">seafoam</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggi/pseuds/eggi'>eggi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Choking, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, comparisons, sorting it out slowly, they'll get there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:53:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggi/pseuds/eggi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>komaeda often finds himself wondering if he could ever make hinata's eyes look vibrant again. </p><p>they're just out of the simulation, 3 or so months out, both donning fresh wounds from the killing game and komaeda can't help but try. </p><p>neither of them are emotionally stable enough to do this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seafoam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the briefest of moments, it's just them, only them. There was a comfortable silence hovering over both of them. They've gotten the small storage of popsicles available and decided to let themselves have a break. It's peaceful, but nothing is ever peaceful between the two of them anymore, and Komaeda sighs breathily, tilting his head towards the other. “Say, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda muses, red otter pop resting in his lap, her hand still on his wrist, still rotting away, still sitting innocently on the sand, “why do you think God decided to make sky atop of water?” </p><p> </p><p>Hinata doesn’t amuse his antics, his own otter pop (green) dangling from his mouth, held in place with his teeth with an odd elegance. Komaeda supposed this was the result of Kamukura. The comfortable silence just barely teetered towards awkward, and Hinata desperately wanted it to be gone. “I don’t know.” Hinata lies, voice coming out clearly despite the obstacle in his mouth. Komaeda’s lips turn up into a mindless smile, eyes crinkling. </p><p> </p><p>“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda says breathily, name rolling off his tongue easily in a way Hinata detested, the way Hinata had told (read: begged) him to stop, and he doesn’t miss Hinata’s almost full body shudder. “You’re a god amongst men. Perhaps even Christ up in the clouds, hm-?” Hinata has this vacant look in his eyes. Komaeda hates it. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a pause. “I..” Hinata seems to have lost any response at this point, brows furrowing. “...I  didn’t know you were such a religious person, Komaeda,” is the response he settles for, voice being drifted along from the wind, previous authority long gone. He seemed vulnerable, and Komaeda blinks, bored. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not.” Komaeda smiles, squinting up to view the rays the sun beamed down mercilessly at the pair. “If God himself were real, perhaps things would be going better for us.” Hinata doesn’t argue with this notion, staring down at the sand. Komaeda so badly wants a reaction from him, see the old Hinata again. He’d rather not see that ivory black hair cascade behind Hinata like a physical barrier, rather not see the singular strand of hair acting as a curtain to hide Hinata’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“Hinata-kun, you truly are a god, aren’t you?” Komaeda asks, no heart to his tone, almost condescending. “Hinata-kun, if you’re God, do you know why you made the sky and ocean so similar yet strikingly different? Why must there be a horizon and a divide between the two? Why can’t-”</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda barely has time to blink before his back is pressed down against the ocean, tide lapping gently at his hair and wetting his clothes, and his gaze wanders up and up until he can see nothing but the vast and endless sky above him. “Hinata-kun, there’s no need to manhandle me around,” He comments dryly, watching Hinata walk over and stand above him, substituting the red sky he once saw with a black one, mindlessly addressing it as Hinata’s hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Komaeda,” is the only response he gets in return. Komaeda feels like laughing, but he knows he’d run out of breath too quickly, he knows he’d start choking and this moment of seeing Hinata react would be long lost once Hinata reached out to pat his back to help him breathe. “Just shut up. Please. Komaeda, please, for once. I’m only 22, Komaeda, I can’t- I can’t do this. I can’t do all of this and I really can’t take your fucking meddling anymore. I’m trying my damndest, okay? I know it’s not enough. I don’t want to be your God. I don’t want to be anyone’s God. I don’t deserve it.” </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda so desperately wants to call Hinata a liar. He knows deep down, pushed underneath all Hinata’s regrets, Hinata knows. Hinata knows and craves to be treated as a deity, to be put up on a pedestal. He knows he’s battling with being oh so talented and insecure, but he can’t help but push, words falling out of his mouth before he could think. “Why, Hinata? Why are you so scared of being God? Why are you so phased by my own worthless comments and words that shouldn’t even deter you from your obvious place above me, Hinata? Why’re you such a coward? If you’re God, Hinata, can’t you change everything in our situation? Why? Can’t you do the simplest of things, Hinata? Entertain me.” Komaeda challenges, pokes and prods, pushing every button he could reach until he could get a reaction, and a reaction he got. </p><p> </p><p>There are hands around his throat, ocean water almost up to his nose, but not quite enough to drown. Both of their otterpops are dropped onto the sand beside them, the colors merging together and melting, sand getting into them. Water makes its way into them, and Komaeda really wishes he finished that. He’s almost grateful, but he gives a grin in response. “Why so physical, Hinat-?” his sentence is interrupted by the grasp around his throat increasing, blocking off his airway. Komaeda wheezes, an infatuated grin spreading onto his lips, taking the moment to relax and stare at Hinata’s face. He’s much too calm about this, probably because he knows Hinata doesn’t have the balls to kill him. He couldn’t kill anyone on this island. </p><p> </p><p>Hinata’s eyes are so different. One, strikingly red, resembling the sky above them, showing no emotion at all. Dull, despite how vibrant the color was. The eyes were the window to the soul, yet Hinata’s red eye revealed nothing. On the other side of the spectrum was the eye color Komaeda and everyone was accustomed to. A warm hazel, inviting, welcoming. Friendly. Full of a whirlwind of emotion, hope, desires that weren’t fulfilled. An eye that showed nothing but pity and shame. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda’s hand grasps at Hinata’s wrist, Enoshima’s hand lying restless, motionless. Shifting only when Komaeda flicked his wrist too hard. If Hinata felt anything arise from her hand on his own, he didn’t show it. At least, not physically, for Komaeda was staring too intently into Hinata’s eye to the point he could see the discomfort and loathing brewing in it. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda can’t breathe, gasping out for dramatics, only resulting in his breath being lost more. He would make a joke, probing at Hinata with a comment of “You take my breath away” or something cheesy, the same comments that used to make Hinata so flustered. The same comments that would result in him being hit over the head gently, the same comments that would make Hinata look at him with nothing but adoration in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Alas, the sky and ocean were too different. So close to holding one another, but the sky was too grand and the ocean was too catonic. They were too different from one another. Komaeda claws at Hinata’s wrists halfheartedly, the thought bringing a twinkle of amusement in his eyes despite his situation. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda emphasizes with the sea and the sky. The sea was unpredictable, rash, waves bringing down anything it wanted into the enigma it was. Waves and tides hit land, eroding for who knows how long, only noticeable when it was too late. An unknown force of nature, one that could breathe life to the world and snuff it out just as easy. Despite that, the ocean had a pattern. It was never dormant, and if it was, it believed firmly in returning and giving what it deemed fit. </p><p> </p><p>The sky was vast, powerful, spreading across far and wide. The layers upon layers that protected them from the sun’s harmful rays, the clouds, the drifting. The sheer tranquility of it all. It was everywhere, a powerful presence that couldn’t be overlooked, one that held so much importance. Alongside that, the sky was also finicky. Weather, dark skies, anything that could hurt the world around it that it tried so hard to protect would always manage to slip past its cracks. No matter how hard the sky tried and sought after a peace that was impossible to reach, it always had a moment like that. </p><p> </p><p>Both of them needed each other as much as they were different. Afterall, there would be no rainfall without the water to support it, and there would be nothing to guide the ocean’s tide to and fro. Komaeda drifts out of his fantasy, realizing that saltwater was drenching his hair, unhappily realizing that he would have to take care of that later on as well. It was always a shame when he had to clean… he probably didn’t have any shampoo left. </p><p> </p><p>No matter how upsetting the situation was, nor how little breath Komaeda had left, Komaeda can’t stop staring at Hinata’s eyes. They were always so woeful, always looking as if they were just a moment away from glazing over with tears that should have been shed long ago. He was tired of it. Tired of seeing Hinata look so dead. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda lets his arms slink up towards Hinata (ignoring how much his arms trembled with the effort, ignoring how much his lungs screamed for air, ignoring everything), hands tangling in his already knotted and messy hair. He takes his mobile hand, taking a moment to brush away the clumped up and oily bangs covering Hinata’s face, and it felt like the clouds had parted, making leeway. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda lets his thumb run over the scars and fading freckles on Hinata’s face with an intimacy he shouldn’t have. Komaeda indulges, because he was selfish, and he watches Hinata’s face contort to support the emotions he was feeling all at once. He could see it in his eye, again, and Komaeda gives a smile that can’t quite reach his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Hinata stops. There’s no pressure on his throat anymore, and Komaeda can gasp for air, sucking in greedily for the air he had lost. His hand still rests on Hinata’s face, the hand that was not quite his still resting in Hinata’s hair. It was like rubbing salt over the wound, reminding Hinata of what she used to do to him, but he supposed they all needed reminders. Reminders that they weren’t humbled yet. </p><p> </p><p>It’s like the world flipped. Hinata’s eyes weren’t clouded over with so many thoughts, no longer obscuring his eyes, unable to hide the sheer emotion hiding behind the clouds. He watches tears pool up in Hinata’s eyes, watching the rain that so desperately needed to fall drip out, cascading down and down and down, tears dropping onto Komaeda’s already wet shirt, tears following in a messy trail down Hinata’s gaunt and too-pale cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda pushes her hand down gently, letting his willpower go into making Hinata’s head lay down to rest onto his own chest, effectively making Hinata curl into him subconsciously. He lets Hinata weep. There’s a moment of silence, only the sounds of seagulls and rushing waves accompanying Hinata’s soft hiccuping. Hinata stops, breath hitching, an obvious attempt to stop crying again. Komaeda’s throat hurts, and he wonders if this was any different to the chain he used to wear so long ago. He perishes the thought, hand combing through Hinata’s hair, cooing (mockingly, of course. It’s not that Hinata could tell over his own sobbing) fake apologies, because Komaeda was good at that. Good at twisting people up into this. </p><p> </p><p>Komaeda was so selfish. He tilts Hinata’s face up by his hair (because he thinks he should be able to hold and treat him that way if Hinata himself denied being a God). Hinata barely winces. There’s so much emotion on his face, eyes filled with tears, but Komaeda feels his lips purse together in disappointment. No matter how hard he tried, Hinata’s eyes never failed to show anything but hate and sadness. </p><p> </p><p>He wished Hinata's dull, hazel eye, the one that reminded him of fall, the one that was the color of dying grass and prairie fields, would show more than just anger and self-hatred one day. He wished the skies would stop being red, would return to blue, and maybe, just maybe, Hinata’s beautiful green eye would have light in them again.</p><p> </p><p>It was a selfish request. He hoped that, even with his unconventional alternatives, maybe Hinata’s eye would gleam with relief as it did in the Neo World Program. He wished Hinata would open up more, wished he and Hinata would stop arguing everytime about opening up when they knew damn well the other was a hypocrite. Komaeda wished he didn’t push so far. Komaeda wished Hinata didn’t push so far. Because in the end, morality of who was the villain and hero blurred, black and white intertwining.</p><p> </p><p>But until they had to cross that bridge, until they had to talk about their declining relationship, until they had to learn to love again, Komaeda would keep pushing and pushing because Hinata would push right back. Komaeda feels tears muddle his vision as well, previous thoughts moving away from his center focus to the edges of it, much like seafoam following the very tip of the waves. There are clouds in Hinata’s eyes again, and the rain clears. </p><p> </p><p>Unlike the slight drizzles in the Neo World Program, where the clouds would clear, when the rainbows would come, Hinata’s eyes stay as lifeless as ever, proving Komaeda’s efforts today as a failure. There’s static in his ears, and he’s unable to hear Hinata’s apologies, profuse and disoriented rambling, only vaguely aware of Hinata’s hands gently gracing Komaeda's throat, hesitating so often. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a pang in his heart, tectonic feelings of waves crashing over all thought, Hinata only drawing him closer. He wants to crash into Hinata’s embrace as the sea would with land. Yeah, they had a long way to go before either of them could kiss one another again. It was a good thing the ocean was always so patient.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry for this absolute shitfest, this sucks ass LAHIOEjlksf</p><p>thakn you for reading anyways!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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